Joined: Tue Jul 22, 2008 3:32 amPosts: 485Location: The eye of every storm in this game apparently.

I hope I did this properly. I made it a nice open setting. Forcing my drow to wait out for night fall to fight to his strength and the longer I wait the closer you'll be to getting stronger. I figure this plays to both our strength's.

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-Battles are fought in turns, you post after a response. -Fighting happens in "real time" meaning you can, if you wish, go back in time a little to describe actions and things you do before any attack of the opposition lands (within reasonable limits) -Be as descriptive as you can. More information makes for better battles. -Do not ever control your opponent's character (or pets) in any way. -Characters are, typically, allowed two actions per post: One defensive action and one offensive action. Regardless of whether you were attacked or not, you may only attack once per post.-You can only use 1 special/spell per turn (you can use multiple skills per turn, and 1 special and multiple skills per turn though). Specials that have an effect on your opponent count towards your one offensive action. Defensive specials count as a special use and your defensive action. Misc specials (buffs mostly) are neither one but still count as a special use.-Try to be fair in both your attacks as well as your dodges. Getting hit every now and then is not the end of the world, and deepens your character. -There is a minimum of 2 paragraphs required in a post (though more are desirable!) -No 'Unblockable' attacks. There's always something, somewhere that can happen. -Be creative, use the world around you to your advantage! -Use a spell checker, or a program that helps with puncuation. It can't hurt... and can generally help your posts more readable.-Have fun!!! Battles are supposed to be enjoyable. If don't like it, something is wrong.

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They'd been traveling south to avoid the plague had stalked them. Tainting everything from the Cold-Fire Forest to the Harfed Plains. In search of answers the Drow had continued to search in the hope of slowing the infection for Nuncia further. The dark temple didn't not have the answers he sought and he fear the long trek to the light temple might be the end of the sickly Sylvaan. He's asked the priests of the dark temple to be wary and visit their camp once daily to do what they could for the poor woman. He snuck out of camp that evening and traveled for two days ignoring trancing entirely in favor of the expediency required for this mission. He tranced upon the third days dawn for two hours recover the energy to move on.

By the fourth day he had nearly reached the oasis, using the land marks on the map given him by the dark temple acolytes. Morgoth pushed onward finding a small dune-less plain to set up his makeshift tent. That night he completely rested knowing full well he'd need all his strength should the premminssions the priest had given him were true. There was a man in this desert who seek passage in this world. His goals unknown and his skill untested this man is likely to fight tooth and nail to gain access to his sandbox.

The morning dawned and it was yet another long walk. Morgoth became increasingly impatience as he wandered the sands ad nauseum. Then as he began to give up hope the trees of the oasis breached his line of sight. Growing ever closer as the elf sprinted through the endless sand. Losing his pent up frustrations he dipped his head into the cool spring. The temple was another two clicks south but the drow knew that it would be dusk soon and he'd need another nights sleep to reach the light temple. This seemed like a picturesque place to set up his tent and rest. The drow noticed an old man lounging by the pool eye's glinting in the light as he watch Morgoth patiently.

The one who seeks passage will be here soon. I suggest you take up one of my arms to better test his skills. You'll find anything you need there boy.

Just as quickly as he'd appeared the man was gone. The voice in his head still ringing eerily. The man must have been a psyonicist and a powerful one to speak without speaking. Morgoth turned his attention to the weapons the man had said would be there. An array of wooden armaments lay on a intricate woven tapestry. He sighed laying his weapon aside in his tent and picked up a wooden training katana. All things consider it was a well balanced weapon. Be it made of wood and heavier than his liking. Sliding it loosely through his belt Morgoth watched the sun passing waiting for the young traveler.

_________________A perfect storm of action and reaction no thought no will can stop his dream.Myrie, of the night

Just as one man headed to the south, another traveled to the north. A man that seemed to carry himself not as one such as him should, eerily calm in his pacing for a mass of muscles that was raised among orcs and humans alike. Some time ago, he had learned of this one land where it was said that the most powerfull came to, whether they wished to do so or not. Damian was in the former group. If one would end up there regardless of their wish, better do it soon. If he could survive in this land, he would certainly not earn the right of having proved himself at his tribe, but he would also take care of his... other desire, the one to find battle a joy and ecstasy he never showed anywhere else.

It has been... What? Four years? Well, no matter how long it has been, the truth was, Damian has lived on his own for a long time now, getting by through axe, fist and the occasional chair. In his dreams as he traveled to the land of darkness, as some called it, he was contacted by an old man. If it only happened once, it could be easily dismissed as a simple dream... But it has been almost two weeks, and not one detail changed about the dream. In it, the old man requested, no, ordered the barbarian to head to a desert, to an oasis. There, he would find a guardian that would see if he was worthy of his stay. No further details were given, but it didn't matter. Damian had a feeling that if he didn't heed the man, he would regret it... Badly.

It had been almost an week since the desert was reached, and more that one oasis was found, but no guardian... Nor any living thing. Perhaps it WAS just a dream, or some cursed magician was toying with him. It was unsettling while it lasted, and it lasted way too long. Damian had given up the search, and started to head to the east, where he believed the land was. As he continued, he soon spotted another oasis. That got on his nerves... But still, it was a chance to refill his water supply. Was he surprised when he saw a man, holding a strange, curved sword waiting for him.

Damian made no effort to hide himself, instead, taking the bardiche he carried from his back, holding it with both hands. It was a rather large and heavy weapon, it could probably cut a man in half with some luck... But while he didn't notice, a fine layer of magic covered it since he was contacted by the old man for the first time. It was unable to cut properly as long as he didn't pass the test. With a shout, the challenge was made. "You! I was told that there would be a 'guardian' waiting for me... If you are him, then i believe i will have battle you. If you aren't... Well... the only difference is that I'll actually feel bad for killing you." With the setting sun thankfully on his back, Damian approached. The wooden weapons on the ground didn't escape his notice, but they likely didn't matter. The sand would make running a waste of energy, such with large steps, the first swing would be delivered to the strange elf's body.

Joined: Tue Jul 22, 2008 3:32 amPosts: 485Location: The eye of every storm in this game apparently.

If this isn't okay I'll edit my post. I've never seen anyone disregard the training weapons before. All in all Nice first post, just try rereading before posting. It will allow you to catch where maybe you forgot a word. __________________________

"You! I was told that there would be a 'guardian' waiting for me... If you are him, then i believe i will have battle you. If you aren't... Well... the only difference is that I'll actually feel bad for killing you."

A large man approached looking angry. A sigh passed the young Drow's lips as he began to reach for his real weapon again. When the man was stopped mid swing. The old man stood by the edge of the tapestry once more. A blue energy flowed around the larger man stopping him in his tracks.

I don't like your attitude little man. Please leave your weapon on the tapestry and take a blunt training weapon.

With a shrug Morgoth went back to tightening his leather armor still standing ready to grab his weapon should the man ignore the psyonocist. The rage this man had already brought to the party meant he was some kind of berserker. A grin passed his face the setting sun glinting across his pale face. He'd been ashen colored his entire life but the strain of the pack was beginning to show. Morgoth knew this was his chance to change this world. One of his students would pass or fail this day and it was partly on him to change this man's life. Like Seutra had changed his, allowing him entry to the surface. He lowered his weapon to his side showing he meant no harm at this time.

Traveler, I'll be testing you today. I am Morgoth Shyne, Drow Prince of the Underdark. I've been asked to put aside my choice of weapon for a blunted practice weapon. If you would do the same I'd greatly appreciate it.

_________________A perfect storm of action and reaction no thought no will can stop his dream.Myrie, of the night

To stay in-character is semi-optional, but it's pretty good a feeling. It's okay as-is, i can handle.______________________

Damian didn't understand how he was stopped, not only his weapon, but all of his body. it seemed that the old man of his visions was there, but... how? He didn't see someone else when he aproached. Regardless, it seems that he literally couldn't advance to the continent if that man didn't wish so to happen. While frozen, he heard the sorcerer's words, ordering his oponent not to use a weapon... And probably ordering the barbarian himself as well. "Traveler, I'll be testing you today. I am Morgoth Shyne, Drow Prince of the Underdark. I've been asked to put aside my choice of weapon for a blunted practice weapon. If you would do the same I'd greatly appreciate it."

Great. Now not only would Damian would have to serve as that mage's amusement, but he'd have to battle some hussy prince or another. But if the land of darkness was as dangerous as he heard, maybe THAT prince did more that walk around in horses and fool around with farmer girls. Once liberated from the paralisis, Damian grunted as he let go of his axe, who sinked thrugh the tapestry a few centimeters into the sand bellow. There seemed to be a training version of almost any weapon, be it wooden, be it edgeless. As wooden weapons went, axes were the worst conversion, as they lost their weight and edge while keeping slow due their akward shape... So a mace it was.

While he could have grabbed a sword, as he was somewhat proficient with it, it had been a while since he last handled one, and it would be for the best if he could go with something as close as possible to his old weapon of choice. The maul was almost comical to see, a giant, polished stick is what it was, but it was still something. Taking the heavy piece of wood, Damian prepared himself to start the battle again. Talking would be little more that a way for him to lose his patience further... But he guessed that he might as well pay back the elf's intruduction.

"Very well... I am Damian a warrior from god knows where. If 'your highness' is ready, then i'l start." And once again Damian started moving, but the diference of the maul to his weapon, while not great, still changed his tatics. Instead of rushing foward, he'd need to make sure his hits landed. So, to start, he would atempt to side-step before bringing down the wood into the Drown's head with an overhead swing. He didn't know about the other's fighting style, but he figure a counter would be atempted... Guards aways did so, at the very least, Damian himself only got himself falling for that trick once, where a caravan's mercenary almost stabed him in the gut while he charged for an attack. Good days.

The berserker selected a mace and spoke arrogantly spiting back his reply,

"Very well... I am Damian a warrior from god knows where. If 'your highness' is ready, then i'l start."

The man had clear intentions as he picked up a mace and side stepping with a swing. Circling opposite the berserkers swing, Morgoth strike with a sweeping cross cut toward the side of Damien's head. He adopted the calm demeanor of the dance. He'd be one step ahead of this boy each. A simple flowing from stance to stance would keep the prince above water.

You think to small but not by far; Show me just how strong you are.

His simple words were to entice this man to bigger and better things. He saw the spark behind those eye's hiding, something, pain maybe. The man was hurt and need to let out his anger one way or another. lets see what behind that anger... The glint in the drow's eye's hid the relief that this large man had gone with the training regime.

The sun was just reaching the horizon. The sky was pale blue, pink, red and gold. Staining the clouds as the night was clearly forming behind them. The deepening of the sky from pale blue to deep azure was magnificent to watch. The drow would only have to wait a little longer to play his games in the shadows. He could help it a smirk bubbled up across his calm facade. The glee behind the new trainers thoughts were a real test of the mans prowess.

How many Drow have you met human? Our racist is animalistic at the best of times. We've been in a war for a decade now. I've seen things you can't begin to image. People tortured for nothing more than being in the way. My father did that to his own followers for 10 years until I ended his life. Do you think your out of your depth boy? You can walk away now and no one will fault you for trying.

_________________A perfect storm of action and reaction no thought no will can stop his dream.Myrie, of the night

Missiong wasn't too much of a surprize, but the agility of the dark-skinned elf, on the other hand... Well, at least he knew about it now. The mace was too hard to keep balance of to block the elf's attack, but the opponent's agility wasn't the only one to be surprized at. [Skill:Windheld body] While just barely, Damian was able to throw himself out of the way of the blow. "You think to small but not by far; Show me just how strong you are." Oh? If he wanted strength, he'd have it soon... Yes, Damian could already feel, the joy of battle was almost too good to be natural on others, but not in this barbarian, not this one who carried a will to fight beyond and above what others could.

Then the opponent started to talk about his race again. It was almost as if he expected Damian to stand around and listen the good 7 seconds of his speech... But that dammned mage could be wanting that, so to play along was essencial for now. Killed his own father? Now that was... Awfully similar to how the orc learders of the tribe went around. Torture, a 10 year war, racist elfs... Damian was begining to like the place even more. "Out of depth? I think i'm beggining to actually LIKE how things are here." Admitedly, Damian could pass the torturing... Too much noise, and it is no fun to kill those who can't fight back... Mostly. Did he even love to see if he could split a fat merchant in two. Score was 8:4.

Now, observing his oponent, Damian noted the leather armor. Those things were heavy as an drunk orc if they got wet, so perhaps decreasing the oponent's speed was in order. Once again lifting the giant wooden mace, Damian prepared himself, atempting to put himself in an angle that allowed to throw the prince into the oasis with a swing. It would be hard to hit, but perhaps going for full power would make it too good an idea to dodge. But that was just part of the battle, to try to predict the oponent. This time, Damian would atempt to use his range as an advantage, but striking at an odd angle, diagonaly, almost like a sword would. That angle would hopefully make the elf stumble in the water.[Guard Pierce 1/3]

________________________2/6 posts to activate furyMy character is sounding more evil that expected... I think a change in alignment will be called upon soon .-.

Joined: Tue Jul 22, 2008 3:32 amPosts: 485Location: The eye of every storm in this game apparently.

Morgoth breathed calmly and then clenched up as the blow contacted his lower chest. Digging in he skid back ward into the water. With a glare at the larger man he muttered, interesting... This man knew enough about my armor to try and get it wet. But, continues to doubt my abilities. Still he got Morgoth's trousers wet and the bottom of his armor was damp. This was not where he wanted to fight from. He was shin deep in the cool water and the sky was just beginning to deep.

He moved forward methodically. Every step forward was calculated, his cool demeanor unchanged by this cool bath. As he reached the edge of the water he swung and a heavy cross blow. This blow was easily blockable and easily abandoned should it go wrong. Morgoth set his mind to making this young berserker see the error of pushing a rush like this. His eye was drawn to the horizon as the setting sun dropped out of sight. The sky continued to deepen, the sapphire blue spreading yet further.

You strike like someone still uncertain. Though I have to admit you've struck my interest albeit strengthening my urge to gut you. Setting his jaw the young drow prepared to being the magic show. Once the shadows set in he'd show this stripling the mistake he'd made. A sigh crossed his vigilant facade, never taking his eye's of his pursuer.